By Proxy
by Drappersky
Summary: Even when Bruce Banner is in total control of the Hulk, isolated in the middle of nowhere, he still needed his fix. In his mind he described it as an itch and it's the reason he's been hiding. How long is he going to last without it now that he's part of the Avengers? Bruce wants to help but ends up hurting. Münchausen by Proxy
1. Chapter 1

Bruce Banner was a cautious man and it wasn't just because he turned into a radioactive rage monster or that the army was trying to kill him; no, it was something more personal. Even when he was in total control of the other guy, isolated in the middle of nowhere, he still needed his fix. In his mind, he described it as an itch.

In essence, it was a compulsion to care for and aid injured people. As a doctor it helped him feel connected to and appreciated by his patients, which in turn made it easier to diagnose and treat issues other physicians would have overlooked. The problems started if there was no one to help or heal. The itch would transform from a beneficial tool into something very dangerous. Instead of feeling needed and respected by the people around him, he felt trapped and desperate, so he would start to _plan_. Then suddenly people would start to have more and more "accidents". Accidents that Bruce always happened to be there for and more than willing to help with. Bruce knew he wasn't safe to be around. There was something wrong with his head; he couldn't stand to see people hurt or sick, but he always had to have patients to take care of. So much so, that if he couldn't find someone bleeding or broken, he'd make one instead. People always got hurt around him. Either the Hulk wrecked a town or, when the itch became too much to handle, bad things would start happening to nice people.

Luckily, Bruce had found a fairly simple way to keep it in check. While hiding in multiple third world countries, Bruce found that a lot of people needed a doctor, but couldn't afford a hospital visit. So Bruce would make house calls any time, day or night. In fact, he had such a well-established network of poor and downtrodden people in India that the itch was never more than a barely-there prickle. He didn't do it for the little money that they could give him, because really there was no way he could have lived off of that. No, he did it to make sure the itch stayed useful, instead of destructive. Then he met Natasha Romanoff.

He hated that SHIELD had dragged him out of his comfortably obscure living arrangement in Calcutta. He hated that nobody on the whole helicarrier trusted him, he hated that he was put in a war zone that made him Hulk out, but most of all he hated that he couldn't leave the team to fend for itself. He should have run away and gone back to his safe place with its constant stream of people in need, but he couldn't. Maybe it was because he had been alone for so long or maybe he was just tired, but when Tony Stark asked him to stay he said yes.

Tony believed in him and appreciated his mind. Tony wanted Bruce to come play in his freak'n awesome lab. Tony wasn't scared of Bruce even though he'd seen what the Hulk was capable of, so he stayed. Bruce lost the battle to keep himself distanced from the limelight, but he promised himself this new arrangement would only last as long as the itch stayed at bay. Luckily for Bruce, Tony had been so beaten up after the battle with the Chitauri and then falling from the sky, after almost dying in space, that the itch wouldn't be a problem for a long time. Of course Stark had the best doctors that money could buy, but Bruce was the only one willing to live with him in the Stark Tower labs until the penthouse was fixed. Tony also had some rather self-destructive habits. Pretty much a live-in doctor was needed to keep an eye on him so he wouldn't reinjure himself by testing out a new invention or drinking himself into a coma before he was properly healed.

The first month and a half of living in the tower was great. The labs were mind-blowing and Stark's company and ideas keep him nicely busy. Tony's multiple injuries kept the itch down to a whisper and things were almost relaxing. He got to know the team better, under much less stressful circumstances and they seemed to like him for his demeanor, brains and the Hulk's brawn too. The difficulty didn't start until Tony pronounced himself completely healed and told Bruce that he could now stop "mothering" him.

The itch started small, an annoyance that wouldn't go away when he tried to meditate or sleep but after a week, of no one even getting a scratch, it amplified. He should have just left right then, packed his bag and headed back to his network in India, but Tony had looked so upset when he mentioned leaving, _god damn those kicked puppy eyes_, and now everyone on the team wanted him to stay. They were all trying really hard to make him feel welcome, he missed being around people who actually cared, but if he was going to stay, the itch couldn't. It was constant and unbearable inside his brain, he wished he could take off the top of his head and just rub it away but he knew there was only way to stop it. He needed his fix. Bruce felt absolutely horrible about starting to plan, but if he started out small, just enough to channel his doctoring instincts, maybe things would work out for the best. Something that was easily treatable, but that took time and attention to heal.


	2. Chapter 2

Pepper Potts was in and out of Stark Tower frequently. Getting Tony to sign things and interrupting his lab time. A model of efficiency, not only as Tony's assistant but with everything from art galas to dealing with SHIELD. Short skirts, perfectly curled hair, she was brisk and to the point, Pepper was constantly going, never stopping. Back, forth and everywhere in those silly, clicky, high-heeled shoes that he knew, as a doctor, weren't good for her. Would it be so horrible if he would help her with that problem? She was a good target. High heels are notoriously unstable, heels will twist an ankle with one wrong move and Bruce knew just how to make that happen. He could easily make it look like an accident and it wouldn't seem out of place for him to catch her when she tripped, if it happened in a communal area of the tower. The plan was nothing crazy or over the top. Bruce just needed the itching to stop, not to _seriously_ hurt someone.

Monday morning Miss Potts arrived at Stark Tower on time as usual, with a stack of papers for Tony in one hand and her phone in the other. Getting off the elevator at the top floor she quickly made her way towards Tony's lab. Rounding the corner to head down the short flight of stairs that led to the R&D section of the penthouse, she heard someone close by call her name. Pepper's head whipped around to see who had requested her attention, but her body didn't follow. She felt a pop in her ankle as she fell, her papers and phone went flying from her hands, cascading down the stairs. Then before she hit the ground, an arm darted out, grabbing her around the waist and holding her up. Pepper's ankle gave a sharp throb as she tried to get her feet back under her. The arm around her waist pulled her back from a tumble down the staircase as she wobbled. Saved, she opened her eyes wide, breathing rapidly as she found herself clinging to Dr. Banner. He supported her weight and calmly asked if she was okay.

The pop her ankle had made as her shoe stopped and she didn't was audible. It was like perfectly orchestrated music, the plan and the trap had worked beautifully. When he swooped in to help, Pepper had stared at him with round eyes as he carried her over to the couch. He did a quick check of her ankle. It was good and sprained. This was the best part, the doctoring. The itch subsided as he rotated the ankle and propped it up on a pillow. It all but disappeared as he went to go get a first aid kit, ice and tell Tony about Pepper's accident. On his way down to the lab, he picked up her phone and the papers she had dropped. The heel trap he'd set up minutes before she arrived on the top floor, clicked lazily as he casually slid it into his pocket.

Pepper was out of commission for two weeks with an ankle brace and doctor's orders to take it easy. She kept working from the office, but delegated a lot of the running around to others in the company. When she finally reclaimed all her duties, she didn't wearing high heels for seven days even after her ankle was feeling totally better. To assess her progress, Bruce insisted on checking in and helping her whenever she came over. He made it out that he felt guilty for distracting her, but in reality every time he could help her or see her the itch would disappear. So a month passed him by without incident, living and working at Stark Tower, until Pepper started wearing high heels again.

Wonder of wonders, two days after Pepper's full recovery, a super villain decided to level a couple of city block in DC. The end goal was to destroy the U.S. Naval Observatory. Of course he didn't get anywhere close. The Avengers arrived in all their glory to beat the bad guy and his cronies in to the ground. They won, captured the bad guy and put him in SHIELD's custody after everything was in order the Avengers headed out for their traditional team dinner, but the best part, by far for Bruce whenever they got called out was all the doctoring after.

He liked being part of the team and how well they worked together now, but his favorite part was that after a battle they all turned to him for help "cleaning up". No one was extremely injured from this battle. The villain they'd fought, did not have the most organized of group people working with him but nearly everyone had cuts and scrapes. Bandages, braces and a few band aids were needed by all. Clint was in the worst condition, needing stiches for a four inch head wound. Ten days later Bruce was taking the stiches out for Clint. The cut looking very nice and was healing well, probably wouldn't leave a scare. The team was always grateful to Bruce for his medical knowledge, seeing as none of them liked having to go to SHEILD's medical bay for treatment. Tony and Clint especially disliked most forms of medical attention but Bruce was always available and fantastic at any kind of first aid. On top of that Bruce was an interracial part of the Avengers team, he not only knew what went down at every battle and he was always there to handle any situation too much for his more human teammates.

These kind of incidents held Bruce in good stead, till they hit a lull, three months later. Between having defeated and put away all the established super villains and the time needed for the new up starts to think they could take on the Avengers, a peace settled over Stark Tower. All the fighting then fixing the team up after had been going so well he had almost forgotten why he ever was worried about joining the group. He waited a week and then two, for SHEILD to call them in on the mission, but it seem the bad guys weren't ready to try their luck quite yet. The itch came back with a vengeance. _What was he going to do?_ The itch was eating him from the inside out. He tried to be patient, Bruce knew something would come up, but until then, he needed someone to have an accident and he needed it soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Thor was visiting from Asgard and had been staying at the tower for the past week, training with the team, telling them about the Nine Realms and trying new foods. Bruce liked the over-exuberant god a lot under normal circumstances, but with the itch keeping him from sleeping and with how loud Thor was, Dr. Banner was starting to feel less than friendly. Bruce knew that Thor was an alien prince, but that didn't give him free reign to do whatever he pleased here on earth. The god was never as careful as he should be with the "mortals" he hung out with. He was always thumping people on the shoulder so hard they could feel it in their bones or pounding them on the back with enough force to send the other person flying forward into whatever was close by. It's true that when Bruce hulked out he was not the most delicate of beings, but Thor was like that all the time and he was not just hurting enemies but friends too. The people Thor spent most of his time with were all superheroes, so no one would ever complain about rough treatment, but sometimes it really hurt.

With this in mind, Bruce once again began to plan. Thor knew very little about earth sciences. Some calcium nitrate, kept in an unstable condition, should be just about right to fix Bruce's problem and teach a lesson. This would be a good learning experience for Thor. To show him how much damage, unchecked, unrestrained strength could cause. Sure, the lab explosion he was planning might be a little extreme, but a few good glass-filled lacerations would drive the message home. Anyway, it was Thor, he would be fine.

On Thursday, after a good training session together, Hawkeye and Thor headed up to the commons area looking for entertainment and found Tony pouring himself a good stiff drink.

"I got those new arrowheads done for you, Clint." Tony remarked as he downed the drink in one long pull. "They're down in the lab."

"Yes!" Clint shouted as he punched Thor in the arm "I can't wait to see how they work. Let's go look at them now." Turning to Thor, Clint started to explain. "I asked for custom ones that once they're imbedded in the mark, shoot needle-thin spikes into the body and for Tony to improve the old heads I have." They headed off toward the lab. "Tony, you coming?"

"Na. Bruce is still down there working if you need something. I think I'm going to get some sleep."

Entering the lab they saw Bruce hunched over a computer, glasses on, hair rumpled like he'd been working all night.

"Hey Bruce." Clint greeted him as the door slid closed behind them. Looking up from his notes Bruce smiled, he looked more than a little worn around the edges. Maybe he'd been up more than one night.

"Hi, are you guys here to see the arrowheads Tony just finished?" gesturing with a pencil he pointed to the table behind him. "They're right over here. I think Tony said they've all been tested." Clint whipped out his bow and quiver as he and Thor headed over to the work bench. To try them out, Clint moved onto the firing range that Tony had in the lab to test long range weapons. After the successful first run with the spike arrow and improved heads, Thor and Clint started joshing each other about who had the best weapon. Thor laughed loudly and clapped Clint on the shoulder, making him stagger a bit as he unknocked his bow.

Bruce noticed them horsing around. "Please be careful. There are some delicate experiments going on right now. The lab really isn't a place to be messing around." Thor turned to Bruce jovially.

"For such a fierce warrior, you worry far too much." Enthusiastically, Thor walked over and thumped Bruce on the back. There was a rattling of beakers and glass containers as the hard thump threw Dr. Banner forward into the table. Suddenly there was a shattering pop and red flames. The gently simmering experiment on the table next to Bruce exploded, sending glass shards, chemicals and pieces of burning tubing flying. The glass was propelled at an amazing speed, slashing, cutting and fragmenting. The god of thunder caught the brunt of the chemical explosion on his arms, neck and face with a large amount of blood seeping from a gash over his eye. Unfortunately, Bruce had been sitting close enough to get hit with a few glancing glass shards that left small bleeding cuts along his forearm and cheek. Everyone froze as the fire subsided.

Bruce hadn't been sure Thor would bump the table enough to set off the explosion of calcium nitrate, he had prepared nearby, but the plan had gone fairly well. It all started when he noticed that Clint and Thor spent a lot of time together over the past week, so Bruce suggested that Clint ask Tony for some innovative arrowheads. Thor was always more touchy and exuberant around Clint for some reason, so it was the perfect strategy to get both of them down to the lab together and have Thor accidentally trigger the explosion. Since then Bruce had been watching Tony's progress on the arrowheads and even set up his new research table closer to Tony's work station than normal, just so he'd be sure to get Thor and Hawkeye's attention when they came down to test them out.

"Fuck! Thor, are you okay?" Bruce asked, as he pulled the god of thunder away from the destruction, to sit down on a bench that wasn't covered in glass. Instead of getting a response, Thor and Clint merely stared at him, tense and wide eyed. Bruce stared back, confused and then worried; did they somehow know the explosion was his fault? No, he let out a huffy laugh. No, they hadn't figured it out, they seemed to be waiting for him to go green. Please, if every explosion of that size made him hulk out he wouldn't step foot in any lab. Bruce did a quick check over the damage the blast had done both to the lab and Thor. Seeing nothing unfixable, he asked Barton if he was okay.

"I'm fine, what about you, Doc? Everything under control?" he asked as he searched Bruce's eyes for a hint of radioactive green.

"Nothing I can't handle." Bruce said giving Clint a half smile. "Could you please get the first aid kit. I need to patch up Thor and I may need a few band aids myself." He stated, looking at his scratched-up arm. Clint nodded as his eyes finishing their assessment of the situation and he went to grab the kit.

The only thing Bruce hadn't figured into his plan was that gods heal really fast. He knew from the get-go that Thor was tough. But it turned out that after Banner washed the chemicals off Thor's skin, pulled multiple chunks of glass out of his wounds and wiped off the blood, half of the superficial scraps on his arms looked at least a day old. Continuing anyway, Bruce put a bandage on the large gash near Thor's eye, but Thor actually laughed at him when he insisted on a cream for the chemical burns.

"You should attend your own injuries instead. Mine will be healed by the morrow. Yours will last much longer." The worst part was, Thor was right. By the time Bruce woke up, the only evidence it had ever happened was a small pink line over the god's left eye.

When the explosion happened the itch had dissipated and it lessened even more as he pulled jagged pieces of glass out of the god, but now with Thor healed, it was whispering around the edges of his mind again. After all the planning and waiting, he only got one day worth of true relief and Thor had not even been a properly grateful patient. It was maddening, not what he had planned at all. Bruce blamed it on waiting too long and letting the itch interfere with his thought processes. Well, he wasn't going to make that mistake again. This time he would start ahead, while he was still thinking clearly, to make sure he got a good long time to help his patient.


	4. Chapter 4

The Thor plan had ended badly in all the important ways. There was no one to take care of! The one thing Bruce really needed and did all that work for had disappeared while he slept. This failure left Bruce feeling horribly unsettled and frustrated, but now after three days straight in the lab Bruce was more than half way done with his next plan, a better plan. He was in desperate need of a shower and food that was not coffee or energy bars, but for some reason he just couldn't stop. He hadn't seen anyone in days and he'd been sleeping on the couch in the lab. Bruce knew something was wrong, he was not usually like this; yet he couldn't seem to walk away.

Out of nowhere a hand landed on his shoulder, it squeezed hard and then gave him a good shake. Bruce jumped out of his seat and whipped around, breathing heavily and blinked rapidly, bringing Tony into focus. Tony stood with his hands out in front of him in a "whoa there" gesture, but Bruce didn't understand why.

"Bruce, I think you've had enough," Tony stated, slowly reaching out a hand, "it's been days. Why don't you come with me and let this go?" Tony said as he pulled Bruce toward the door away from his scattered notes and flickering computer. "Let's get you cleaned up and put you to bed." As they crossed the threshold exiting the lab Bruce felt a wave of exhaustion hit him and he stumbled.

"Tony, I feel dead on my feet. I think I might fall over." Tony smiled indulgently as he slung Bruce's arm over his shoulders.

"You look like it too."

Tony helped him to his room and Bruce somehow took a shower without passing out. The last thing he remembered was Tony tucking him into bed like a child and turning off the lights. Waking up Bruce felt both better and worse. He was not as sleepy and he was clean, but he had a hell of a headache and was so hungry that he felt ill.

Shuffling into the kitchen Bruce was greeted by a huge breakfast of waffles, eggs, fruit, potatoes, bacon and oatmeal. Sliding onto a stool at the breakfast island, he grabbed a bowl as Tony handed him a glass of juice. Steve was cooking and everyone else was digging in. The whole team was together eating, which meant it must be Saturday, since that was the only time they got together without an emergency. After two sets of seconds Bruce was finally feeling like himself again.

He sighed, as he sat down in the living room, smiling happily. Thank goodness Tony had come and dragged him out of the lab. Speak of the devil, Tony carelessly flung himself down next to Bruce on the couch.

"Well, you look better." Tony smirked "and here I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one. Not the other way around." Bruce blushed.

"I may have been a little overly focused. Sorry you had to do that."

"No problem, that's what friends are there for, to pull you out before you pass out on your computer." Tony casually gestured with his left hand and that's when Bruce noticed the bandage.

"Tony, what's that?" Bruce grabbed his wrist and examined the bandaged hand. "How did you get hurt?"

Tony winced and looking sheepish, "It was two days ago, not a big deal. I was working on the R8's engine and my hand slipped. I'm sure they're just jammed." Tony had a bandage wrapped around his hand with three fingers bound together. Bruce carefully unwrapped them as Tony hissed in pain and what met his eye was not pretty. The fingers were swollen, reddish-purple and hot to the touch. One was very crooked.

"Tony, these look jammed to you? They are broken! Why didn't you come to me right away?"

"You were busy and it wasn't _that_ bad. I bandaged them up myself." he said, looking proud of himself. "They do hurt when I try to use my hand." Bruce felt sick. How could he have gotten so involved in his plans that he didn't notice that Tony needed him? God, this was so wrong! The itch had taken over and had blinded him to the very thing he needed. It threatened not only his own health, but his friend's too. He would find another way to get his fix. This destructive behavior was going to stop now.

"Okay," Bruce said, taking a deep breath, "Let's get you some ice and I will wrap and splint these up so they don't hurt. You are not to use your hand for anything for at _least_ a week."

"Oh come on Bruce, it's not that bad. I have stuff I need to do," Tony whined.

"Last night you pulled me out of the lab, thank you. Now I see how stupid I was being, isolating myself down there." Concern flitted across Tony's face as he looked at Bruce, searched his eyes for something. "Let me help you." Bruce smiled, "Straight flexible fingers are important to you, right?"

Luckily, Tony's fingers had not been beyond repair, but it shook Bruce to his core to find how consuming the itch had gotten. To think that he could slide so far off the deep end, so quickly, scared the crap out of him. It also made up his mind, he had to have a constructive outlet. One that could be called upon when needed, but could be let go if things were going well. Bruce needed a new network here in New York. There were plenty of people living in the city that would benefit from his skills. It shouldn't be hard to get set up with the right connections, but he had to do it anonymously. He didn't want anyone on the team asking questions. Now that Tony illustrated the error of his ways, Bruce was not going to let the itch own him.

In theory, it was a great idea, but both The Hulk and Bruce Banner had become very well-known after the invasion. So instead of having a pool of needy people to help that were just grateful for a doctor's assistance, Bruce ran into fans. He thought it would be fine since it was really The Hulk who was in the public eye, but the first two weeks he set up his network, four out of ten patients knew who he was. Not that Bruce didn't like fans, in fact he was glad that so many people accepted the Hulk as a superhero. The problem was he needed anonymity in this work. So he cut his visits down to four or five a month, just enough to keep the itch at bay and made sure that if people did recognize him they would conveniently forget who he was.

Despite its initial hiccups, his new arrangement worked fairly well for about four months. The itch was well within his control and slipping out for a quick doctoring visit had become routine, when everything went to hell.

Bruce was floating somewhere between sleep and waking. There were people talking in the background something about, ransom…. time… safe…. and unstable…. Finally he pulled himself away from the constant undercurrent of sleep. Everything was fuzzy, he couldn't concentrate on anything. His brain kept flipping back and forth between, Where was he? Why did his head hurt so much? Why didn't he feel right?

"Look he's awake. Let's do this now and get it over with. I still think this was a really bad idea."

"Shut up, as long as the drugs you gave him do what they're supposed to we'll be rich and gone in twenty four hours." Bruce felt mildly annoyed for a moment, before his mind slipped back to the last thing he clearly remembered.

He had been out on a job seeing to a family in the projects who had all come down with a nasty case of bacterial pneumonia. On his way back to the tower he had been thinking about the validity of Tony's new take on the quantum field theory when he felt someone watching him. This wasn't so unusual with The Hulk's new public image. People were very curious, but not brave enough to just come up and ask him to questions. For some reason this time the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. One second he was walking along a city street, itch back in its proper place, the next it felt like he was back on the run from the army. That's when he heard the silenced gunshot and felt the prick as the trank dart hit its mark.

Great, he had been kidnapped. He was fleetingly impressed with the person who drugged him. Whatever it was, kept him unfocused, sleepy and relaxed. The guys in the room were setting up a camera. Bruce didn't care, he was cold and wanted to lay down. The building he was being held in looked condemned and drafty. The people were arguing about how to send a ransom video. Dumb, he thought, Tony can track anything sent electronically. His arms hurt, they were pulled behind his back around one of the support columns of the building. Maybe he should try to get loose, but he would need a plan and that seemed like a lot of work.

"Don't worry, I've got the bomb all set up if anything goes wrong" What!? Bruce's brain snapped back on line. There's a bomb?


	5. Chapter 5

Tony and Clint were eating pizza, while having a lively argument over the validity of 3-D movies, when JARVIS interrupted.

"Sir, there is a video communication coming in from an unknown line. Should I transfer it to your personal device?"

"Nah, JARVIS, just put it up on the TV."

There are a lot of things in this world that Tony Stark never wanted to see. Bruce tied up, vulnerable and drugged out of his mind flashed up on his TV screen was definitely a big one. He hardly had time to register the ransom demands being made before he was on his feet.

"JARVIS!"

"Yes, Sir."

"Pinpoint the original location this video was sent from. I want a digital street map of where ever that is and the blue prints of the building Bruce is being held in. I also need you to get in contact with Nat and The Cap to fill them in on what's happened. I want this done ten minutes ago JARVIS!"

* * *

It was a testament to what an effective team the Avengers had evolved into that a rescue plan was formulated and about to be put into action in less than fifteen minutes.

Steve and Natasha ended up being a lot closer to Bruce's location than Tony and Clint. They were going to be heading up a preemptive strike. The building JARVIS traced the video to looked abandoned at first glance, but as they moved around to the back entrance they found that the door had been forced open. Natasha took point while Steve watched her back. As they headed up the back stairway, voices could be heard on the next level. Tony and Clint were on their way, but it seemed pretty obvious they were dealing with a group of amateurs. The important thing was to making sure Bruce was all right. They had both seen to ransom video and with how drugged up Bruce looked the Other Guy must be furious.

Any sort of resistance a gang of hooligans was going to put up was nothing compared to an out of control Hulk. Besides, Captain America and The Black Widow shouldn't have any problems taking them down, right?

* * *

Ever since his captors had mentioned the bomb, Bruce's head had been getting clearer by the minute. Unfortunately the situation Bruce found himself in had gone from annoying to extremely dangerous in a very short time. Not only was there a bomb rigged to blow the second anything went wrong, but now that Bruce had overcome the calming and sedating effects of the drug he was simply left unfocused. The Hulk always came to the forefront when he lost focus in stressful circumstances and Bruce could feel how close he was, rumbling around his head, wanting Bruce to let go. Although a hulking out would free him from this predicament, there was no way to control an angry Hulk bent on revenge. Bruce didn't even want to think about how much damage he would cause to the building or people before calming down.

Just as Bruce clamped down on the urge, out of nowhere Black Widow came flying into the room. With no more than a couple of well-placed kicks and a choke cord, three guys lay motionless on the floor. Whipping out knifes, pipes and guns the rest of the gang charged her. Bruce watched as two more guys go down without even getting near her, before she pulled out her own guns. Natasha was the most capable assassin he'd ever met, but Bruce was still worried. She didn't know about the bomb and The Hulk had redoubled his efforts to be released at the sight of her fighting all those people on her own. Just as Bruce tamped down the impulse once again, Steve came running in, completely turning the tables. The sudden entrance of Captain America seemed to trigger a freak out as the remaining members started falling left and right and that's when the bomb detonated.

* * *

Coughing up a lung full of dust, Bruce looked around. The first thing he registered was that he was still inexplicably tied to the pillar, even after the explosion. Next was that he hadn't hulked out; that drug must be more effective than he originally had given it credit for, even though The Hulk was pissed. He looked around, seeing the prone bodies of the gang members half crushed under rubble. Oh God! Where were Steve and Natasha?

"Bruce? Are you hurt?" Steve asked as both he and Natasha ran over. Kneeling next to Bruce, Steve checked him for injuries. All the air in his lungs seemed to disappear, seeing that they somehow had gotten through the blast unscathed.

"We are going to untie you and get out of here." Cap told Bruce as Natasha started cutting the bindings off his wrists. Suddenly a bullet lodged itself in the concrete of the support pillar as a single gunshot reverberated in the still air. Natasha's eyes widened as blood blossomed slowly from a wound in her upper arm. The bomb-desolated building shuddered as a red and then green mist took over Bruce's vision. As the blood soaked through Black Widow's suit, the last of the drug holding The Hulk at bay vaporized.

The Hulk tore through the tenuous hold Bruce had on him. Easily ripping free of the bindings that had held Bruce immobilized he roared his displeasure as the last supporting column holding the building up crumbled. The dilapidated structure gave a final groan as it collapsed on top of everyone.

* * *

The Hulk did not like being trapped under the building's rubble. The dust hurt his eyes. Throwing chunks of broken concrete off himself, Hulk climbed out of the building's wreckage.

_Bad Bad Bad men! Hulk angry bad men hurt gun lady! Hulk protect gun lady, Hulk smash bad men!_ But as the Hulk looked around he became more and more confused. _Where gun lady and Captain? _They were both by Bruce when Hulk decided to help. _Can't see, can't find._ With a worried huff, he looked back at the smashed building. Were Captain and gun lady still in the building? He needed to find them, to see they were safe. Hulk started to picking up and throwing big pieces of the building. _Under, under, under,_ Hulk roared his frustration. No matter how many pieces of building he moved, all he found were bad men.

* * *

Tony and Clint arrived at the coordinates given by JARVIS, but there was no building to infiltrate or Bruce to rescue. There was just a huge pile of debris and one distraught-looking Hulk. What had gone wrong? Immediately, Tony told Jarvis to pinpoint Black Widow and Cap's tracing devices. As the locator pinged its signal recognition, Tony yelled to get the Hulk's attention.

"Big Guy, over here." According to their tracking signals, Natasha and Steve seemed to be under a huge piece of the collapsed roof. It didn't look good. The only place they wouldn't have been crushed was a small gap between a collapsed wall and the base of a broken-off support column. Hulk lifted the section of roof up, tossing it out of the way. Covered in dust and small pieces of debris, Natasha and Steve were curled around each other, hurt, but alive.

* * *

After getting Steve and Natasha to the SHIELD facility for medical attention, Tony and Clint went to find Bruce. Walking out into the waiting room they found him curled up in a chair expecting to hear about there condition. The Hulk had eventually calm down after both of his injured friends were flown away to safety, getting smaller and less green until he turned once again into Bruce Banner. But Bruce was far from calm, he felt horribly guilty, rolling the whole incident over and over in his mind. How did everything fly out of control so quickly? He quickly pulled himself out of his self-deprecating spiral when he saw Clint and Tony.

"Are they going to be okay? I can't believe I let this happen. It's all my fault."

"They're both going to be fine Bruce, but we were wondering how this went down. How could you," Clint gestured at Bruce in his borrowed clothes, "get kidnapped without hulking out on their asses?" Bruce sighed,

"It was the drug. I have never experienced such a fast acting sedative/mood regulator outside of military involvement and even then they don't usually work that well. I should have been more on my guard."

"But Bruce I don't understand how you even got into a position that drugging and kidnapping you was an option for these people?

"I've been working as a doctor in, not the nicest parts of the city for the past four months." Bruce said not making eye contact. Comprehension dawned on Tony's face.

"Is that what you've been sneaking off to do every week?"

"Yeah well, I like to help people," Bruce rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously , "and I did the same kind of thing back in Calcutta. They were always grateful."

"New York isn't the same as India Big Guy, not by a long shot." Tony said. Staring back up at him with a cold look in his eye and guilt written every line of his body Bruce nodded.

"Yeah, I think I get that now."

His New York Network hadn't worked out the way he'd hoped at all. At least when Bruce was "purposefully" hurting his own people it was never anything major and he was always on hand to help. This had been ten times worse; getting kidnapped, hulking out and almost crushing two of his teammates in the process. No, sneaking off to help the poor here just didn't pay off if that was going to happen. Now he was back to square one. What was he going to do about the itch?

* * *

**Note: I would like to thank all the people who are reading my story, especially the ones who commented. I love to seeing you enjoy my work. The next person in line to get hurt is Hawkeye but I'm not 100% sure why. If you have any ideas your help would be greatly appreciated. I'm thinking there's going to be 2-3 more chapters if all goes well. **


	6. Chapter 6

It didn't matter how happy Bruce was living at Stark Tower, finally being able to work in a lab again and being an active part of the Avengers. The itch was going to come back and the minute it did, Bruce was going to leave. He was never going back to planning "accidents". Playing into the itch's hands hurt everyone and dug him a hole too dark to find his way out of. The network had failed, more spectacularly than Bruce could have imagined, leading not only to his kidnapping, but to an unplanned hulk-out. On top of all the bad things that happened to him, his friends were nearly crushed in the aftermath and were now dealing with life-threating injuries. He wanted to be able to stay and put all his past behind him, but the team shouldn't have to take the brunt of his slip-ups. They were never going to be safe with him around. Once Natasha and Steve made a full recovery Bruce was going to slip away and just hope everyone would understand and let him go.

After being released from SHIELD Medical, Steve and Natasha improved rapidly. Steve had taken the most bodily damage by protecting Black Widow from the building's collapse and Bruce just thanked God that The Captain had his shield. Everything not sheltered by the shield was scraped raw into a bloody, pulpy mess that made him feel a little nauseous. Naturally, the super soldier serum had Steve up and back in fighting order after only a few days, but it was a rough week of recovery.

Natasha had not been hurt as much by the building's debris, but being stuck under a ton of concrete with a through and through gunshot wound was no picnic. She lost a dangerous amount of blood before getting medical attention and suffered respiratory distress from inhaling glass and cement dust.

They both would, of course, bounce back in time. Steve and Natasha were fighters and not to be slowed down by anything, be it an alien army or a building falling on top of them. No, the problem Bruce faced was purely selfish. With his decision to leave made he should be slowly distancing himself from the team, but Steve and Natasha made that all but impossible. He absolutely loved them as patients. It was wonderful to be taking care of people who he knew and trusted. He didn't have to sneak around or pretend to be someone he wasn't. They were both so grateful not to have to stay at SHIELD's facilities that they happily when along with everything Bruce suggested and even though he felt guilty as hell for the kidnapping incident, it was nice.

Bruce spent a lot of extra time hanging out with Natasha and Steve, not only assessing their progress and helping with physical therapy, but just being together. The subsequent three months were the longest time Bruce could remember without even a tickle from the itch; it was completely silent. Usually as the person he was taking care of improved, the itch would start to creep around in the back of his head, reminding him that soon he would need to find someone new. For some reason while taking care of Steve and Natasha, that never happened. So it was a total shock for Bruce that on Monday he was laughing and teasing Cap about a flan cooking disaster and the next night the itch was back. He packed a bag and booked a flight to Tibet leaving in less than 12 hours.

* * *

Bruce couldn't sleep. Everything was in order. His research was all backed up, his bag was packed with the essentials plus his new laptop, he had deactivated all the tracking devices Tony made to keep track of him and he had tidied his room. All that was left to do was to act normal until he got to Lhasa. Hopefully no one would be the wiser that he was leaving, until he was gone. It was 3:30 in the morning and Bruce was up reading a science journal, not taking in a word of it. He _knew_ he was doing the right thing and it was the best thing for everyone. So maybe life could be somewhat fair and stop his chest from hurting and his heart from telling him that he was making a huge mistake.

Reading by the light from a lamp, Bruce heard Tony's steps before the room lights turned on. Stark walked up behind the couch Bruce was sitting on to look over his shoulder. After few minutes of silence, Bruce finally turned away from "reading" the journal to smile up at him like nothing was wrong.

"Up kinda late." Tony remarked leaning on the back of the couch. "Is what you're reading that good?"

"No, **JHEP** doesn't have anything groundbreaking out this month. I just can't sleep."

"Then, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Bruce said, setting down the journal, hoping Tony would keep his mind off the ticking clock.

"Does your insomnia maybe have something to do with this," Tony pulled Bruce's packed bag out of nowhere and thumped it down on the couch so hard it made Bruce jump. The full duffle bag sat in front of Dr. Banner looking deflated and apologetic as Tony crosses his arms and stared accusingly at Bruce. The bag had been left under the bed in his locked room. How had Tony found it?!

"JARVIS was kind enough to tell me that you bought a one-way ticket leaving for Tibet in less than 5 hours. Thing is, I didn't want to believe that was true. I went to ask you about it in person only to be greeted by an empty, cleaned out room and a single bag filled with all your stuff. My question is…" Tony said, looming over the bag, looking angry and hurt, "What in the hell, Bruce?"

"I didn't want anyone to find out. It was going to be quick and painless."

"So you were just going to leave, without telling anyone? Without telling me?"

"Yes," Bruce stated. Tony searched his eyes for the reason, but seeing nothing but self-sacrificing conviction, he threw the bag out of Bruce's reach and took its place on the couch. He was not letting Bruce go easily.

"Why?" Tony asked, distress evident in his voice, "I thought you were happy staying here." Bruce wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to lie. Maybe he should just tell Tony about the itch. Then he would understand why Bruce staying was just not a viable option, but he had never let anyone know about it before. Sure, everyone knew about the Hulk and the military and the constant mistakes he made, but the itch was different. All the things he did to make the itch go away, all the people he hurt; the team would never forgive him. After he explained that all the accidents that kept happening in the Tower were of his making, they may question their entire friendship with Bruce. How much doctoring had he done out of concern for their wellbeing and how much was manufactured to sate the itch?

Now Tony was here, demanding answers and making a hard decision that much worse. The silence stretched on and Tony became visibly more agitated, until he snapped.

"No, no, I 'm not letting this slide, Bruce! You can't expect me to be okay with you just disappearing!" "JARVIS! Call the team. I don't care where they are or if they're sleeping, on a mission or fucking, we all need to talk right now." Before JARVIS could comply, Bruce stopped him.

"Please don't bother the team, it's late and there's really no point in arguing, I'm going." Tony looked confused. Bruce closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "I don't want to go," he confessed "but I need to. It's for the best. I'm not helping anyone by staying here."

"Yes, you are. Don't you understand what an important part of the team you are; as our doctor, as a friend. I don't even want to think about the Avengers without you and The Hulk."

"You would be fine. Everyone on the team is perfectly capable of handling themselves and although I like being part of the team I _need _to be helpful and I just don't see how the Hulk smashing everything in sight is doing that." Bruce took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I really have tried to figure out a way to stay, but I'm too dangerous, things fly out of control too quickly." Tony huffed out an agitated breath. "Look, if you're talking about the kidnapping, we were all taken by surprise by how out of control that got, but you know I've never had any issues with the Hulk. He's terrific and so are you. The way Steve and Natasha recovered so quickly; that's all on you. I thought it was a really great bonding thing no matter how it came about. You guys seem so much closer now and understand each other better."

"Yeah, I mean it's true, I like hanging out with them a lot. Caps fun to tease and cook with, while Natasha's lost a lot of the fear I always triggered in her and her cutting wit is a weapon in its own right. But no matter how nice it's been, they don't need me anymore. No one here needs my help anymore. So, I have to go."

"I need you. Help me."

"Tony, you're fine."

"No, I'm not. I've got a hundred and one things to do at work and in the lab. I never have enough time. Now that I'm part of the Avengers, I'm constantly fixing my suits and making new things for the team. I hardly have any time to create new ingenious inventions to better mankind any more. I know you could help me. God, Bruce, if nothing else, you have to stay to keep me on the straight and narrow.

Tony was trying really hard to get him to stay. If Bruce's problem actually was a need to be useful, Bruce would unpack his bag right now and tell Tony they better get to work, but the itch didn't work like that. The itch was purely injury-based, so unless Tony needed help with his new underground gladiator ring, he really shouldn't stay.

"I'm sorry Tony, but it's not that easy."

"Please don't go." Tony was dead serious, all joking and anger aside. His voice was strong in his sincerity, but his eyes looked vulnerable, waiting for the final rebuff.

Bruce studied Tony, sitting rigidly, waiting for the last blow and for Bruce to walk away. For the whole argument, Tony had been all riled up, body tense, hands in tight fists, fighting for him to stay, fighting like Bruce truly meant something to him, more than just a fun distraction, more than a house guest, like Bruce was something worth fighting for to keep by his side. What did that mean?

Damn it, fine, he would try. Of course, helping Tony in the lab was not going stop the itch, but Bruce wanted to find a way to control the itch and stay. Maybe working with Tony would give him an idea he hadn't thought of on his own.

"JARVIS, cancel my ticket." Tony's face lit up like the Fourth of July.

"I knew I could talk you around. Let's forget this whole thing happened and get working on a new project. I'm thinking either a city-wide air purification system or Hulk pants." Confidence and swagger restored, Tony headed off to start hashing out details.

So Bruce was going to try. He knew it wouldn't be easy and even though he settled back into his room and lab space, he didn't unpack his bag.

* * *

Note:

Sorry this chapter took so long. I had some writers block and then Bruce almost left for Tibet with out my permission. The next chapter will be some kind of thing were Clint gets hurt but it is getting harder and harder for Bruce to justify hurting anyone so he maybe the last one. Maybe two more chapters in this story, I will have to see. Thanks for reading and comments are appreciated. :)

*JHEP is the Journal of High Energy Physics.


End file.
